


Winning Through

by oooknuk



Series: Consequences [3]
Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10749747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oooknuk/pseuds/oooknuk
Summary: Ray and Fraser sort out their lives and beat the demons after 'Call of the Wild'





	Winning Through

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters you recognize will belong to Alliance. No infringement of copyright intended. Not for profit. 
> 
> Warnings: language, m/m 
> 
> Note: This is the third and last in the series which began with Father and Son, and then Paying the Price.   
> My thanks to Sasha, Elizabeth and Possum for comments and beta on this. All mistakes mine of course.

Ray caught the end of Fraser's farewell to his sister and heard him tell her, "And you know, if you need some advice, uh, say, about a relationship, or things of a female nature ... don't call me." Maggie thought it was funny. Ray wasn't laughing.  Relationships and Fraser were no laughing matter these days.

He watched Maggie drive off in the cab, and Fraser walk away from him, apparently talking to himself. Well, that'd be right - he sure would rather talk to himself than to Ray these days. Things had got so bad that when a pretty lady Mountie had shown up, Ray had thought, 'what the hell' and had pursued Maggie, more for the distraction than anything else. It turned out, irony of ironies, that his immediate attraction to her was undoubtedly genetic - he couldn't escape from being hopelessly in love with Fraser by sleeping with his sister, could he?

Trouble was, he couldn't escape by sleeping with Fraser either. After bringing him back from up North, Fraser had started visiting a psychologist a couple of times a week, and had almost immediately moved back to the consulate on the shrink's advice, or so Fraser said. It was supposed to give him a chance to focus on getting well, which made Ray feel like he was part of the problem, not part of the solution. Ray had assumed the man he loved - and who had said he loved him - would stay with him in his apartment, sleep with him in his bed. But apart from some chaste kisses, they hadn't touched each other since they left Canada. And sex? What was that, Ray thought ruefully. Fraser had retreated from him - from everyone. He said he needed time to get over the post-traumatic stress which had driven him to the point of suicide two months before. Ray was happy to give him that, so long as he got Fraser at the end - but they seemed further apart than ever, and nothing Ray could do could bring them closer. Fraser was friendly in his hearty  polite way, the same as he was with everyone. It was only Ray who noticed the looks of pain, the withdrawal from personal conversations that showed that despite the help he was getting, the Mountie was still pursued by his demons.

He wanted to help, but Fraser wouldn't - couldn't - confide in Ray any more.  It made Ray edgy, irritable, and that didn't help either. The communication difficulties he thought they resolved a year ago on the Henry Allen case resurfaced. Ray had taken him Christmas shopping in a last attempt to connect with him on a personal level and all that had led to was Fraser getting himself into a hell of a mess over the Warfield thing. He'd been beaten within an inch of his stubborn life, and Ray had had to pull his buns out of the fire - again. He'd tried - god knew how he'd tried - to show his worry and concern for Fraser over that, to draw him out and keep their friendship alive. But Fraser had locked down - he'd delivered a bitter little speech about forgiveness at the Christmas party, refused Ray's invitation to stay over Christmas or join his family for dinner, and emerged from the holidays as bright and brittle and cold as Ray had ever seen him.

And now Maggie. Fraser had bickered with Ray over her like a dog with a bone, had actually shoved and pushed and insulted him in a way Ray had never seen him do, and Ray's natural irritation was strongly tinged by worry that his friend was two seconds away from cracking up again. He knew Fraser. And this wasn't like him at all. Now he saw the Mountie had stopped walking, and was no longer talking to himself, so he went over to him.

"So, you must be happy - got a family again."

"Indeed. And you also seem content with the fact, I note."

Was that jealousy, Ray wondered. "What does that mean, Fraser?"

"I mean, Ray, that your interest in my sister seems to have re-animated you. If you don't mind me saying, you've seemed a little down lately. Perhaps a change of ... pace ... will do you good."

He started to walk off again, but Ray grabbed his arm and spun him around. "I wouldn't be looking for a change of pace if there was any fucking pace to change from, dummy. I'm not depressed - I'm worried. And I miss you," he said in a slightly less belligerent voice.

Ben looked at him innocently. "I don't understand why, Ray, you see me everyday."

"I see someone everyday, Fraser - but I don't know who the hell he is. I don't know you anymore."

"That makes two of us," Fraser replied softly. He freed his arm, and walked away and this time Ray didn't go after him. What was the point? he thought hopelessly.

And so things had gone on for another month. Fraser liaised his socks off, keeping things strictly professional between them, and Ray was no closer to unlocking the misery surrounding his friend than he had been before. This wasn't only about the death of Petey Carpenter, he knew. Fraser'd been pretty wound up before the accumulation of stresses, of guilt,  had combined to make him crack. He even understood Fraser wanting to hold off on their relationship - the new element of it anyway - until he had his head straight. But he couldn't understand why he had to lose his friend as well as a potential lover over this. The only thing that gave Ray hope that the man he loved was still there, still cared at some level about him was the occasional look of longing, one or two touches that said more than words could - but it wasn't enough. Ray was worried, and Fraser was too withdrawn to help.

Things might have gone on without change, if Fraser's homesickness had not led him to go ice fishing in a city reservoir, to hook a dead body, and to precipitate a chain of events which led them to a hotel room and the reappearance of the real Ray Vecchio. Ray Kowalski knew his life was over then - the life he liked, anyway. Fraser didn't seem to how unhappy Ray was. When Fraser'd seen Ray Vecchio again, he looked as if, for him, Christmas had come early - or late, considering. From the second Vecchio had turned to them and announced he was back, until Fraser was standing grim-faced in a hospital corridor having just visited his gravely injured former partner and best friend, Ray Kowalski felt like he no longer existed as far as Fraser was concerned. Only when Ray had summoned up the courage to ask if **_he_** and Fraser were still partners, did Fraser talk to him, look at him directly with something approaching friendship - even tenderness.  But what the hell did he mean - 'If you'll have me?'   S _hit Fraser,_ Ray thought, _I'll have you - if you ever let me, I'll never let you go._ But as usual, Fraser didn't explain, and Ray felt he couldn't ask. He just followed the Mountie, trusting, as he always did.

Which led to him clinging to an airplane wing for dear life, then being tossed out of said airplane from 2,000 feet onto an ice field, and various other life endangering moments which Ray would try hard, and in vain, to forget. It was all a bit of a blur - literally, since he'd lost his glasses, and with the hypothermia he wasn't thinking any clearer than he was seeing. He remembered a couple of times when he almost connected with Fraser - when the Mountie seemed on the verge of opening up to him. Once by a campfire, and in an ice crevasse facing death - but both times they were distracted by weariness or rescue before they could bridge the gap between them. After crashing into Buck Frobisher's camp, Ray had spent the rest of the day and some of the evening being plied with hot rocks and drinks by Turnbull, who was a hell of a lot more worried about him than Fraser had been. He finally staggered out to join the merry band around ten o'clock, and found Fraser sitting serenely by the fire, looking happier and more relaxed than he'd been in months. But when Ray tentatively broached the subject of the future, Fraser put him off with some lame ass story about his dad and Buck, and then had gone off for a ten minute clinch and suck face session with Thatcher. Ray was supposed to share a tent with Fraser - he bunked with Turnbull instead, and didn't care that the big guy snored, farted and wriggled. It wasn't like he was going to get any sleep anyhow.

The next day they caught Muldoon. Or rather, they caught the goons he was selling the submarine to. Fraser had done his ride 'em cowboy impression and knocked Muldoon out at the bottom of a mine shaft. And then all was happiness and joy with the Mounties. Ray felt like a fifth wheel, moping around the edge of the camp, while Fraser and Frobisher and the others were toasted and sung to and laughed with and generally treated like the conquering heroes. Turnbull, bless his underpants, had noticed Ray was missing and even gone to the trouble of bringing him a hot toddy, but Ray had shrugged his attentions off. It wasn't that he didn't like Turnbull in a funny way - he was just the wrong Mountie.

And the worst of it all was that Ray just had no idea what he was going to do next. He was still a part of the Chicago PD - but where? His old place had made it clear he was no longer welcome, and there was no vacancy at the 2-7. Fraser was sure as hell never coming back to America, the way he was so fucking happy up here. Ray hadn't felt this depressed since the day he got served with his divorce papers. He couldn't face another night of Turnbull nacht musik, so he got his bag and his sleeping mat and headed out into the wood behind their camp. It was a clear night, and it was nearly as warm being on his own as being in the tent with Turnbull. He just needed to think.

He set up the mat and got into the bag and curled up. Fuck, it was cold. But in a very short time, he'd warmed up the bag enough that he felt comfortable. Who knew? He might even sleep tonight - he was tired enough. He must have dozed, because when a warm wet tongue got stuck right in his ear, he jumped a foot and lost a year off his life. "Who the fuck? Dief? Jeez, guy, give me some warning, will ya?" The wolf whined and lay next to him, inviting a petting like he was a regular dog or something. Seeing his hairy friend, Ray felt an irresistible wave of sadness rush over him. He'd been resisting this for days, but now the thought that going back to Chicago would mean leaving Dief behind - and other things - was too much to bear, and he hid shameful tears and his face in Dief's thick fur. He didn't notice anyone approach until he felt a warm arm go across his shoulder, and he sat up with a start - to look straight into Fraser's blue eyes, lit by the lantern he carried. He hurriedly wiped his face. "Uh, Fraser. Hi. Uh - look, just wanted some peace ..."

"Don't we all, Ray. What wrong?"

The gentle concern in Fraser's voice was one Ray hadn't heard for a long time, and he didn't trust his ears. "Nothing. Well, just tired, I guess. Still got that hypothermia thingie, I think."

"Just tired. Not depressed? Not angry, lonely - sad? Worried? Hurt by your friend ignoring you?" Ray stared, unable to answer. "I came to apologize. I have been treating you badly, and still you have been a true friend all this time. The best a man could ever want, and far more than I deserve." Ray stayed silent. Of all the things he had imagined Fraser doing, this was about the only thing he hadn't envisaged. "Did you imagine I couldn't see what I was doing to you all these months?" he said gently. "I tried to explain last night ... when you asked about us, but ... well, we were interrupted. I just had to hope you might still be here when I was ready to come back to you."

"And are you? Ready, I mean?" Ray managed to say, through a throat that was suddenly thick with emotion and unshed tears.

"Yes. If you'll have me."

"You mean you want to be my partner again," he said flatly.

"Yes. That and much more."

"Fraser, you're staying up here.  I know that - it's the only thing that makes sense. But if I go back to Chicago, where does that leave us?"

"Apart, I imagine. But what if you don't go back? What if I asked you to stay here with me?"

Ray's heart suddenly lifted with hope. "How ... why?"

"The 'how' will take a little ingenuity, but I am assured it can be done. The 'why' is - because I love you. Because I want you to go on your adventure, and I want to share that with you. And because I cannot bear the thought of losing you," he gently stroked Ray's face, "any more than you appear to be able to bear the thought of losing me." He bent and kissed Ray gently, then pulled back to look at him.

Ray wiped his face again. "That psychologist - he sure made you all touchy-feely," he said, embarrassed at his weakness.

"You weren't the only one to suffer, Ray - I wasn't being cruel to you on purpose . I know I've been distant these last few months. I'm surprised you didn't walk away from me." Fraser's voice was low and full of pain. "I wanted to talk to you so much, but it was ... like this concrete wall in my chest." Fraser's voice dried up and Ray touched his hand, which made him smile and continue. "I couldn't get out of that shell to reach you, or anyone else."

"What about Vecchio?"

"What about him?" Fraser said with a hint of irritation. "Surely you don't think my feelings for him as a friend are anything like what I feel for you?" He stopped and looked at Ray, who knew he wasn't hiding a thing from the Mountie's sharp eyes. " Oh, **_god_** , Ray - I'm sorry. You really thought ... what a fool."

"There's no need to be rude, Fraser. I know I ain't the brightest..."

"Sorry - not you. Of course not you. Me. I'm sorry, Ray - all this time ... I am so selfish. I don't know what you see in me."

"To tell you the truth, Ben - sometimes neither do I. But I guess I wouldn't throw you out of bed for eating crackers."

"I have to be in your bed before you can throw me out."

"Well, we gotta start somewhere."

Fraser gave him an evil grin, as startling as sun after a thunderstorm. "Now? Is there room in there?"

Ray suddenly found he was on the receiving end of a Canadian bulldozer. "Get off, Ben! Shit, you have to be joking! Fraser! Stop - you're tickling ... stop it!"

Ray's laughter rocketed around the trees, and Dief bounced around, eager to get in on the action. At last Ray lay under a grinning Mountie, panting and laughing. "It's good to see you smile again, Ray." Fraser bent down, and touched his lips to Ray's. Ray grabbed him and pulled him down hard, so that he collapsed on top of Ray with an 'oomph'. Then Ray set about returning the kiss in earnest, putting into it all the frustrated longing and love he had felt for months, nearly a year. Fraser's tongue in his mouth drove Ray crazy. He vaguely wondered where Fraser'd learned to kiss like that. He didn't care. All that mattered was that Fraser was here, still wanted him, still needed him. A cough interrupted them and Fraser rolled off Ray like he was spring loaded. All Ray could see in the dark were some blurry shadows. He'd have to get his glasses sent to him before they went on any adventure, that was for sure.

"Sergeant Frobisher. Sir ... I... we..."

"Were playing tonsil hockey, yes I can see that. Young Turnbull was just wondering if he was going to have the tent to himself tonight - I'll let him know he will. Oh, and Benton? You won't forget the detective here is still suffering from hypothermia. You know the best field treatment for that, don't you?"

"Yes sir. Shared body heat."

"Good work, son. I see you've started the therapy. But speaking from experience...."

Experience? Ray thought, in shock.

"Two sleeping bags zipped into one is a lot more comfortable. We'll see you both for breakfast. Good night."

Frobisher limped off. Ray sat stupefied. "Did he ... he just. ... Fraser, Buck just told us we had to sleep together."

"Yes. Good idea, don't you think?"

"Fraser - Buck Frobisher ... Sergeant Buck Frobisher ... just caught us necking and told us to carry on."

"Not every police officer is a narrow minded homophobe, Ray. Buck's known me a long time. He likes you, approves of you. Why would he object to us being together?"

"Because ... oh never mind. Let's get your gear."

Fraser pushed him back down. "No, stay here with Dief. I won't be long." He kissed Ray gently before he stood up. "Stay warm - Buck was right about that. You need to be completely fit before we go traveling." He hesitated and knelt in front of Ray again. "Ray - is this what you want? Can you forgive me for the way I've behaved? I could understand if you can't..."

"Fraser - I love you. I love all of you which means I have to love the shitty stuff too. Yeah, I forgive you. I'll forgive you a whole lot more if you get your ass back here as fast as you can."

Fraser smiled and kissed him again, then stood up. Ray watched him walk off. He was still struggling with the sense of having fallen down a rabbit hole. Fifteen minute ago he was sobbing his guts out, thinking his life was over. Now he had a future, a lover and his lover's father's best friend's blessing. Um. He thought that was right, going over Buck's exact relationship with Ben in his mind. And Dief. He had Dief. As if reading his mind, Diefenbaker came over, lay by him again and barked happily. "You and me both, fuzzball. But listen buddy, tonight, don't you be watching us, okay?" Dief barked again. Ray hoped that was a 'yes'.

"You look quite handsome there in the moonlight, Ray."

Ray jumped. "Fraser? God, everyone is creeping up on me tonight."

"I'm sorry, I forgot you don't have your glasses."

"S'okay. Don't need them now. I can use touch." He sniffed. "And smell - what's that?"

"Turnbull reminded me that you missed the meal, and saved you some stew and hot chocolate. You have to eat, Ray."

"Let me at it, Fraser - I'm starved." And he was. At supper he'd just felt sick at heart, too depressed to even drink the hot toddy Turnbull had tried to press on him. But now he was ravenous. He wanted to eat, then kiss and hug and ... whatever ... his man, then he was ready to take on the universe.

"To coin a phrase, did something break in your face?"

Ray realized he was being gently teased, and that just made him feel happier. "No, Ben. I just got rid of that six ton weight I've been dragging around since November. But does all this mean you're better? No more nightmares, or flashbacks - or going off and going nuts?"

"I can't promise no more nightmares, Ray. But I can promise you that my mental state will not endanger you, or unnecessarily distress you if you come with me. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

That was good enough for Ray. He finished eating and put his bowl down for Dief to lick, then drank from the thermos. "You?" He offered the flask to Fraser, who took a long drink, then leaned into Ray and kissed him, startling him by delivering a mouthful of hot chocolate to him. Ray swallowed and grinned. "You want to be careful there, Benton buddy. I might get used to drinking like that."

"I have no objections." He repeated the action, then closed the thermos and set it aside - all without letting Ray's mouth free for a second. He pushed Ray back, and proceeded to kiss him more thoroughly than Ray could remember - even from his wild days in high school. No girl - and no guy - had ever kissed him like this, not with this intensity and love ... and desire. Not even Stella. He felt Fraser's erection against his leg and smiled to himself. Even if that didn't get used tonight, he thought, at least he knew that it was there if he needed it. Then he remembered something, and he pushed Fraser off him.

"Thatcher. You were kissing her."

"Well, yes, Ray. You kissed Maggie, didn't you?"

"That was me yanking your chain - and saying good-bye. It didn't mean nothing."

"Yes. Same here."

"You were trying to make me mad? That's not very Mountie-like," Ray said, frowning.

"No, no," Fraser protested hastily. "I've never tried to hurt you intentionally, but then I suppose you really haven't had much reason to think otherwise," he said wistfully. "No, I was saying good-bye to someone who's been a good friend, and a good colleague - and yes, once there was something ... well, it never went very far, for all sorts of reasons, one of which was I fell head over heels for you. But I'm fond of Meg, and she of me. I may never see her again, and I have to say I regret that."

"I get it, Fraser. She's pretty cool - if you like that sort of thing. Just so long as she doesn't have any claim on you. I don't share."

"Not even with Dief?"

"We've made arrangements, Ben. It's not a problem."

Fraser arched an eyebrow at the idea of 'arrangements', then clearly decided that talking was less interesting than 'tonsil hockey'. Ray found himself being pushed flat and soundly kissed again. Fraser was a really bossy lover, he decided.

"Ow!"

"What?"

"Rock. Look, is there any reason we can't do this on a mat inside the sleeping bags? I got hypothermia, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Fraser said with a grin. He stood and got the two mats, arranged the bags and stepped back and swept his arm in invitation. "Your chamber, sir."

"Um, I gotta ... you know, before we, uh..."

"I'd certainly prefer you urinated before we sleep together, Ray," Fraser said matter-of-factly, and not for the first time, Ray shook his head at the odd mixture of bluntness and coyness he'd noticed amongst the few Canadians of his acquaintance. He had another thought. "Ben - do you think Turnbull will coming looking for me? He's been like a hen with one chick since we got here."

"That's because I was neglecting you, Ray. He ... uh ... had words with me about it earlier," and the Mountie looked down, embarrassed.  "That's why I came to find you. And no, I don't think so - Buck has explained the situation to his complete satisfaction. I imagine it was he who sent Buck to check on us, actually."

Ray shook his head again. Match-making Mounties. Turnbull, ticking Fraser off. Wonders would never cease. He did what he had to do, shivering in the cold. He guessed he wasn't as well as he thought he was. And he really was tired - he hadn't lied about that. Another night cuddling and not much else, he though ruefully.

Fraser was already ensconced when he got back, and held the fold of the bag back for Ray. He saw that Fraser had stripped to his underwear - the ubiquitous long johns. Ray grinned - he was in for a surprise. He quickly skinned out of his clothes, and wasn't disappointed at the reaction he got. "Ray - where on earth did you get those?"

"Turnbull strikes again. Fetching, ain't they?" He turned to give Ben a better view, but then blew out the lantern, and jumped into the bag and zipped it up quickly - it was too cold to stay out long in nothing but wool undies.

"I have to say, I'm sure you look better without them," Fraser said into his ear, and Ray shivered again, this time from anticipation. God, he could sound sexy when he wanted. "They're rather too big for you, but I suppose they're comfortable. Are you warm enough?"

"No," he said through chattering teeth. Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea. But Fraser just wrapped an arm under his head, rolled Ray towards him, and enfolded him in strong arms. Fraser's warm body felt utterly wonderful against his. They'd slept together for a few nights in Canada before - but always fully dressed. Given how Fraser was back then, all they did was sleep, and kiss a little. But the way he kept peppering him with kisses, and thrusting his groin carefully but persistently against Ray's, it looked like he had more on his mind this time. Ray felt himself warming more than the temperature in the bag could justify. "You planning something here, Ben, or are these just Mountie bed time exercises?"

"Oh, this is completely routine, Ray. We all do this in Canada, don't you realize?"

Teasing Mountie. Who'd have thought it? Ray was grinning to himself when he realized Fraser was wriggling again, and moving down his body. Oh **_god_** \- is he? He's going to ... "Fraser, are you gonna do what I think you're gonna do?"

"It depends," came his voice, rather muffled by now. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Are you ..." Ray was wondering if he actually knew the slang. Shit, if he could do it, he could say it. "Are you going to blow me?"

"If you mean fellate you, yes - unless you object?"

"Hell no. Just a shock on the first date, that's all."

Fraser re-emerged out the top of the bag, his hair looking all tousled and sexy in the moonlight. "I'm going too fast for you - I'm sorry."

"Did I say that? Goddammit, Fraser, I've wanted to get in the sack with you for months. Thinking about you and your mouth has been helping me jerk off since November - by what definition are you 'going too fast'?"

Fraser kissed him quickly and grinned. "Understood, Ray," he said, then disappeared again. Ray yelped as the convenient buttons in the long johns were rapidly undone and his dick was enveloped in a glorious warmth. Fraser was gonna suffocate, Ray thought - but he did have all that excess lung capacity. Oh shit, this felt good. His hands were on Fraser's shoulders, fisting into the strong muscle. It had been **_years_** since he'd had sex with anyone other than himself. It was too much too soon, and he came within a bare minute, exhaling Fraser's name in a sigh. Fraser's mouth was still on him, but not moving. Just being kissed, he realized. Never had that happen before. Then Fraser was beside him, brushing his lips against Ray's cheek. "That was ... wow, cool, Ben."

"Thank you, Ray - I've wanted to do that for such a long time. I always wondered what you would taste like."

"And what do I taste like?"

"Like this," then Fraser was kissing him open mouthed, and he could just detect the slight bitterness of himself. Not bad - and then he was suddenly desperate to know what Fraser would be like.

"My turn." He burrowed down into the funky warmth and searched for the buttons. Hmmm. But then Fraser's hand came down and released everything, and then he was nose to ...er, yeah. Wow. He hadn't done **_this_** in, like, twenty years. That's the thing about being married - you narrow your repertoire, he thought. He couldn't see of course, but what he could feel seemed huge - thick, smooth and very nice indeed. He loved the feel of dicks - loved his own and not just because he could make himself come. Something about the solidness of them, the soft skin - and Fraser had a lot of it, just like him. Not cut - cool. Well, he knew how that worked. He touched his tongue to the tip, and Fraser shuddered. Salty. Funny that, because he didn't use salt on his food. He took the head into his mouth and suckled. Fraser tasted good, felt better. He could do this all night - could fall asleep doing it. But he could feel his companion's hips moving, a hint to get on with it, so he decided to show some mercy. He stroked the balls, resolving to get a good look at all this wonderful equipment as soon as he could and felt for the tender skin behind them, feeling Fraser jerk a little as he touched it. Ooh, sensitive are we? he thought. He did it again, and with his other hand jacked Fraser's dick. From above he heard a little groan. He did it again, and again, all the while sucking and tonguing and loving in a leisurely fashion - he was in no hurry. Fraser's hand landed on his head, and the fingers started running rhythmically through his hair. Ray felt enclosed, safe - loved. His friend's most intimate places under his hand, in his mouth, and the strong hands of the man he loved brushing through his hair, on his shoulder, kneading, soothing, encouraging.

Fraser's climax came with little warning save a slight loss of rhythm in the hand stroking Ray's head, and a flick of his hips. He tasted different from himself, Ray realized. He couldn't describe it, but he knew that he would never mistake it for anything else. He licked the softening erection, and gave everything a last tender caress. He wanted to sleep here, with his face in Fraser's groin, smelling him, being warm, but Fraser's hands were urging him to come back up outside. He grumbled at that. "I was getting comfortable down there."

"I'm sorry, Ray - I thought you might end up with cramp, and I wanted to do this," he said before kissing Ray. Not just kissing him - worshipping him, marking him. Ray could feel himself becoming aroused again, if not actually hard.

"Ben Fraser - I thought you were supposed to be looking after me. You're gonna kill me."

His only reply was more kisses, and hands roving over him, pulling him close. Well, at least he wasn't cold any more. But at last, Fraser took him into his arms, arranged the clothes they were using as a pillow comfortably behind Ray's head, and stroked his forehead. "I suppose you do need your sleep. Goodnight, Ray." For the first time in days Ray slept easily and long.

 

* * *

Ray felt warm everywhere but his ears, he realized, as he woke. Then he remembered why. The pre-dawn was just sliding into dawn proper, which meant it was about seven, he guessed. Fraser was still asleep, mouth open a little, a smile on his face, his hair messy. All of which meant he looked completely kissable, and Ray was no good at resisting temptation. He did confine himself to nibbling carefully at the exposed neck, but soon a hand came around the back of his head, and Ben moved so their lips could meet.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah - I did. You're nice and warm."

Ben felt his forehead and cheek, and slipped a hand inside his long johns to feel the skin of his chest. "You feel warm enough too, but it really was criminal of me to have neglected your condition. Hypothermia can kill."

"Oh, come on, I wasn't gonna die."

"Well, for all the care I took of you, you could have done. I'm very grateful to Turnbull all in all."

Ray shrugged. Fraser had been a dick, he knew that, Ray knew that. Time to move on. "When can we start, you know, looking for the Hand?"

"Let's see. There will be the processing of Muldoon and his confederates, and you'll have to work out your resignation, or make other arrangements - two, three months? You need to get fit, and learn how to work the dogs."

"You were serious? I can come up here, live with you?"

"Do you want to? From some of the things you said, I thought you did, but I don't want to assume ... I mean, we can still take some leave together, and if after that you decide you want to go back, you can."

Ray thought about it. "No, if I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it from the beginning. I give you my word, you give me yours. Partners, for life, or not at all. Can you handle that? Don't want no more 'forever' relationships that break up when things get tough," he said with some bitterness, remembering the way Stella still needed to hurt, to humiliate long after their divorce, refusing even to allow them to be friendly. "What do you say, Ben?"

"I say, it would be my honor and my pleasure to be your life's companion, Stanley Raymond Kowalski." Ben rolled so he was over Ray. "I am yours for the rest of your life, if you'll have me."

Only Ben could say something that sappy and make it sound sincere, Ray thought. He stared into Ben's eyes, judging, trusting. Yes. This was what he wanted. "And I'm yours, Benton Fraser." Ben leaned down for a kiss and Ray hugged him hard. Could it be this easy? One screwed up man with another, for life? Jumping out a plane for the guy was one thing - but this... One day at a time, he thought. Today, then tomorrow, then the next, until they were out of days, and they had spent that lifetime together.

Dawn broke, and it was getting light enough that even Ray knew they needed to get their butts into gear. Fuck, it was still freezing. Ben got dressed out in the open, like it was nothing, but he urged Ray to change inside the sleeping bag - he was taking his responsibilities seriously at last. Ray shivered when he finally left the warm nest. Ben took him in his arms. "You are going to spend a week indoors as soon as I can arrange it, Ray."

"As long as it's in bed with you, you got no argument from me. Are you going to stay with me when we go back?"

"May I?"

"You could've stayed there from the start, Fraser," Ray said reproachfully. "I always wanted you to be there."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"You say that a lot, you know that?"

They packed everything up and went in search of their breakfast. Turnbull's big shiny face turned like a radar detector to Ray as he appeared. "Good morning, Ray - I trust you had a comfortable night?" He smiled at Ray, but scowled a little at the man behind him. Fraser was obviously still in the other Mountie's bad books.

"I'm good, Ren." He could feel Fraser's surprise at him using Turnbull's first name, but hey, he'd known the guy nearly as long as he'd known Fraser. Slept with him too, in the platonic sense. "And, uh, thanks."

"Thanks for what, Ray?" Turnbull asked, handing Ray a cup of hot something and motioning him to a place around the fire. They were a little ahead of everyone. He could see a few tunic-less men and women emerging and stretching around the camp, but they were the only ones actually ready to eat at their own fire.

"Thanks for, you know ..." he waved at Fraser, sitting beside him, looking sternly at Turnbull, who was totally unintimidated. Talk about a guy blossoming in his natural environment, Ray thought. If Fraser was happier here, Turnbull was like another person altogether.

"That's quite all right, Ray. I can see you have sorted a few things out. I hope you'll be happier now."

The 'and if you're not, you know who to ask for help', didn't need to be said. Perfect understanding flowed between the three men, and Fraser was the one finally who dropped his head sheepishly. "The detective will be well taken care of, Turnbull."

"I'm glad to hear it, sir. Tea?" And no more was said. Ray had the uneasy sense that if Turnbull hadn't approved of Fraser's handling of things, he'd have either had a knock down, drag out fight with the older Mountie, or else Ray would have been tossed over those broad shoulders and taken to safety away from his uncaring friend. The veneer of civilization wasn't very thick over the caveman, Ray thought.

 

* * *

It took them two days to get back to Chicago. Thatcher was ordered straight to Toronto - looked liked she'd been fast-tracked and recruited into some big project. Turnbull flew back with them to the US - kept going on about massages, and Ray could only assume that either there were things that economy didn't offer, or that the young Mountie had a really vivid imagination. But finally he and Fraser were stumbling tiredly in through Ray's front door, and arguing about who was going to shower first.

"I assure you, Ray, I'm quite happy to wait."

"Fraser, you're a guest. You first."

Fraser got that polite stubborn look on his face, and Ray just knew he was gonna lose this one. For some reason it was terribly important to him that he didn't. "Why don't we shower together?"

"That would be satisfactory."

Ray stripped in the living room, much to Fraser's surprise, and then appreciation. Ray had few inhibitions about his naked body, but he wasn't able to persuade Fraser to be so carefree. He was just too damn tired to force the issue. He went to the bathroom and started the shower, waited until it was hot before getting under the stream. Yesss! Heat, cleanliness - having no clothes on. After the last couple of weeks, this was bliss. He had his eyes closed with the water pouring over his face when he felt a big male body behind him, and arms come around him. He leaned back into it. Then he felt Fraser's hand in his hair - god, he was washing his hair for him, massaging his scalp and digging into those tight muscles at the back of his neck. He relaxed. This felt sooo good. Fraser adjusted the nozzle so Ray could rinse, then he opened his eyes and turned round. "You're really taking this looking after me shit seriously, aren't you, Ben. I _can_ wash my own hair, you know."

"Ah. I think you should understand that my washing your hair is for my benefit, not yours. I'm sorry for being selfish."

"Are you saying my hair bothers you, Fraser?"

"No, not at all. Quite the contrary. I just love touching it. And you. So ... may I?"

Fraser gestured at Ray's naked torso. Well, who would have thought it? Benton Fraser, closet hedonist. Ray let Fraser soap and stroke and fondle him, feeling a little like a favorite bath toy, and not minding a bit. Fraser balked a little when Ray wanted to return the favor, but was reminded that turn about was fair play. Ray could see where the satisfaction lay - there was so much Fraser to touch. They were both too tired to be aroused, but not too tired to enjoy things until the hot water ran out, at which point Ray firmly insisted they had to stop. "Ben, I just got to the point of not feeling like a popsicle. Do you mind?"

Never let a single minded Mountie near you with a fluffy towel, Ray thought blissfully. You will never settle for anything else. The drying session was turning into something more serious. "Stop it, Fraser. I've been promising myself that we would be naked in my bed just as soon as I was clean. You want to do this, let's get horizontal."

Fraser made a face that was almost but not quite a pout, which Ray found unspeakably attractive but he got into the bedroom and under the covers without further molestation. Once there he was pounced upon, and kissed, and teased and fondled and licked. Despite the fact this was turning him on more than he'd ever been, he couldn't hold back a yawn - after all, they'd been traveling for nearly 24 hours, and had had a damn hard trek before that. Fraser relented, kissing him in little butterfly touches on his face and shoulder. "Go to sleep, Ray. I'll be right here."

Ray felt those were probably the most beautiful words he'd ever heard, as he fell asleep wrapped in warm Canadian arms.

They had two days to themselves before they had to emerge into the world - Fraser had to go back to the consulate, and Ray reported to the 2-7 because, well, what else could he do? But there he found that things had changed completely. Huey and Dewey had resigned to run their comedy club, and Vecchio was on sick leave, pending being pensioned off. Welsh was ecstatic that Ray was back because he was so short handed, and Ray wondered what the reaction was going to be when he announced he too was leaving. But he kept quiet about that - Fraser had arrangements to make, and Ray still had to sort a few things out. There was also the fall out from the Muldoon thing to take care off, and all in all, unless Ray was a total bastard about it, it was going to be more like six months than two before they could leave. Now Fraser had agreed to live with him, the urgency wasn't so great - not for Ray anyway.

He was sifting through the mess Vecchio had managed to make in his brief resumption of his Chicago PD career, when he heard Fraser's smooth voice talking to Francesca. He tried not to grin - they were certainly not ready to announce the change in their relationship to the bull pen.

"Hello, Ray."

"Fraser," he said in return greeting, keeping things cool. "How's Turnbull settling in after the big adventure?"

"Surprisingly well. It seems to have improved him, even if he is, shall we say, somewhat less deferential."

Ray suppressed a smirk. He didn't think Turnbull was going to go back to treating Fraser like he was a king anymore. Fraser had revealed himself to have feet of clay and Turnbull didn't worship false gods.

Ray brought Fraser up to speed. Ironically the value of the Canadian 'liaison' had been made perfectly clear after the Muldoon episode, and plans were afoot to beef the role up considerably - no more tedious paperwork, certainly no more guard duty, and an official role with the Chicago PD. At the moment, the person who was to work with Fraser was not officially nominated - unofficially, Welsh was more than happy for his best team to continue unchanged. Ray reflected with some bitterness that never had staying in Chicago sounded so attractive for either man, just as they were planning to leave.

They worked on files for two hours, and Ray was about to suggest lunch when a familiar whine announced the arrival of his namesake who looked suspiciously healthy and glowing for a guy who was about to be retired. Vecchio clapped Fraser on the back. "Benny! Frannie said you were here." Ray Kowalski sent the sneak a glare around Fraser's body, but she was oblivious to it.

"Vecchio. Thought you were on your last legs."

The Italian looked at him with amused contempt. "Don't you wish, Kowalski. It was a golden bullet - I can do what I like now."

Fine, Ray thought - so long as you do it somewhere else. "We got a lot of work to do here, Vecchio. We ain't all men of leisure."

"No one's stopping you, **_Stanley._** Hey, Benny," Vecchio said, dismissing Ray, and turning to Fraser who had watched the interplay with apparent polite disinterest. "Ma wants you to come to dinner. Won't take no for an answer. You know what she's like."

Ray saw Fraser glance down at him so briefly Vecchio missed it, and Ray quickly sent him the message that no, being excluded didn't bother him. The tiny frown on Fraser's face told Ray that it certainly bothered _Fraser_ but the Canadian covered smoothly. "Thank you, Ray. It would be an honor. 7:30?"

"Sure. Frannie? 7:30, right?"

"Yes, bro', like I got plans, right?"

Vecchio smiled hugely. "Great. Got a million things to tell ya, Fraser. See you there."

He left without another look at Kowalski. Fraser smiled at his lover ruefully. "I'm sorry, Ray. I could hardly criticize his mother to his face for omitting you."

"Yeah, I know that. Anyway, happy families with the Vecchios I can live without. As long as you come back to me afterwards, I don't care," he said in a low voice, and got a entirely loving smile in return.

They spent the rest of the day on paperwork, and Ray drove Fraser home to change and cuddle. "You're not wearing the uniform - Frannie'll be mad."

Fraser held Ray's face between his hands, and kissed him. "Ray, my heart," he said with fake sincerity, "much as I like Francesca, what she does or does not like about my appearance is of exactly zero importance to me. I never knew you were so jealous."

"And I never knew you couldn't tell when someone was pulling your leg."

Fraser left by taxi after another prolonged kiss. Dief remained by choice which surprised Ray since he bet the wolf would be certain of at least scraps, if not his own helping, of excellent Italian food. But he and Dief had become close after Fraser's little brainstorm the previous November, and Ray had a sneaking suspicion that while the wolf's primary loyalty lay with Fraser, that he _liked_ Ray better. He ordered pizza and shared, and then the two watched some mindless crap on the TV. He'd dozed off before he heard the key in the door. The video's clock said it was after midnight. Fraser came and sat by him, and took him into his arms, kissing him gently.

"Come to bed, Ray," he said, giving him a hand to stand up.

"Did you have fun?" he asked, yawning, hugging Fraser before starting to head to the bathroom.

"Not exactly. There's a lot to tell you."

This didn't sound good. Ray kept quiet until he had his man firmly held, naked and warm, between the sheets. "Now spill. What's the big news?"

"There's several pieces actually. Francesca is going to have a baby for one."

"Frannie? Pregnant? Who ... when?"

"Who, we don't know. When is in seven months. She's acting as a surrogate mother for a couple whose identity is a secret."

"Why?"

"Well, on that point I have to say her explanation was a little unclear. Something about putting unused resources to work. I felt it injudicious to enquire more deeply than that."

"And the rest? You said there was more news."

"Ah. Well, Ray Vecchio is moving to Florida, and is going to buy a bowling alley."

Ray thought this was amusing enough to laugh himself into incoherence over. Fraser waited patiently for him to settle down. "God, can you see it? Vecchio, bowling alley tycoon. What a come down."

"Ray, there's something else. But you have to promise me you will not become unduly upset, or do anything rash."

"Now you're worrying me, Ben. Just tell me, will ya?"

Fraser adjusted his position so that he was holding Ray, rather than vice versa. "It's about Stella. She and Ray have formed an attachment, it would seem. And things are sufficiently advanced for them to be talking about marriage."

"In two and a half weeks ?" Ray shouted. Fraser's arms tightened in reflex, and he took the warning. "Fraser - this is **_Stella._** Ms 'I don't do spontaneous'. Ms 'I don't ever want to marry a cop again'. Ms, and this is the important thing, 'I don't want children'. What the hell is she doing with Vecchio?"

Fraser sighed. "I can't answer that question. But she was there tonight, and they certainly appeared intimate."

"This is why Ma Vecchio didn't ask me over."

"Yes. She apologizes by the way, and promised to ask you soon. She gave me a lasagna for us to heat up."

"You didn't tell her about us, did you?"

"Of course not. I simply said I was staying here until other arrangements could be made. She offered me a room at their house but I explained that, as we are partners, it was simplest this way. You don't seem worried that Stella is with someone else."

"Not particularly, Fraser. Not now, if you get my drift. But it won't last - you'll see. Vecchio will be crying into his beer in six months. She's not his type. I mean, I'm not her type either, not any more, but Vecchio isn't high powered enough for her."

"You may be right, although I hope for his sake you're not. I'm just relieved you're taking this so well."

"What, you thought I was gonna throw a fit or something over my ex-wife's new lover?"

"Something like that."

"When I could be making love to you? You're nuts, Fraser."

Fraser gave him a grin. "Nuts about you, you mean."

"You better be."

 

* * *

Despite his words to Fraser, the Stella/Vecchio thing did bug him, but in a low grade way, just enough to enhance a bad mood, but not enough to ruin a good one. And good ones outnumbered the bad, mostly. It felt good to be back in the saddle, he had to admit, which bothered him when he thought about what life would be like when they went to Canada. He'd have to be dependent on Fraser, at least to begin with, and that was something he'd never done as an adult - live off someone else. Fraser was also relishing the new role, and as transfers to the parts of Canada that they both wanted to be in were suddenly rather rare, he found himself guiltily pleased when at the end of one week, then another and another, Fraser had to report he'd found nothing suitable. But then they got themselves involved in an extortion/kidnapping case involving the abduction and entombing of the ten year old son of a prominent businessman, and they only managed, by dint of some clever deductions and solid police work, to find the child twenty minutes before the air in the coffin in which he was buried ran out. It was a total success - the perp was caught, the child restored to his grateful parents, suggestions were flying around about another commendation for Ray and his now official partner.

But that night, Fraser began to have nightmares. Horrendous, screaming, waking up in a drenching cold sweat dreams that left both of them shattered and Fraser shaking. And then the next night, and the next.

Ray had the day off, thankfully and insisted Fraser call in sick. "Look at you, Ben. you're exhausted. You have to go and see your guy about this - this ain't right. It's that case, isn't it?"

"Probably." The fact Fraser wasn't fighting him told Ray all he needed to know about how rattled he was.

"Well, that settles it. We need to get out of Chicago. Now."

"No, Ray - wait. I've been wanting to talk to you. Let me call the consulate, and we can discuss this over breakfast."

Unusually, it was Ray who insisted on Fraser stopping and eating a full meal before they talked. He felt worn out - neither of them had got more than three hours sleep. He was worried about his lover, and whatever he was about to say, he was making him an appointment to see that psychologist again whether he liked it or not. Finally, over tea for Fraser and coffee for Ray, he asked, "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I've been wondering whether leaving Chicago is such a good idea after all. You seem to have settled in so well."

Ray sagged a little. "Yeah, I've been wondering too. But if staying here, working with me, is gonna do this to you, I can't have that. And I don't want to live without you. So it's simple. We go."

"No, it's not that simple. For one, there's no guarantee that moving to Canada will have any impact on my nightmares. And working in the Territories which is where we both want to go, I would be a policeman dealing with the same sort of cases you do here. It is very likely that I would encounter cases involving violence to children there. And also, like you, I seem to have settled back here very well. So much so that I've been offered a promotion to Corporal. They're expanding the staff at the consulate, increasing the number of staff liaisons and I would be in charge of two constables. If I stay, that is."

"Jeez, Ben, that's great - but you never said."

"It was discussed only yesterday, and to be honest my first impulse was to turn it down. But I've had time to think, and I needed to talk to you."

"But what about Canada - you're homesick, I know that. And what about the Hand of Franklin?"

"Well, yes, that's the other side of the coin. But I think we could both take enough leave, if not this year, then perhaps next year, to go looking for the Hand and spend a couple of months exploring, if you want. There's always leave to go back and visit. And perhaps in time, we will still feel we should move there - perhaps retire there, if not before. It's not all or nothing."

Ray stood up, came over to Fraser, and put his arms around his shoulders. "I think maybe before we decide, you need to see your guy, get some sleep and think. I'm easy either way - I just don't want you sick or upset any more."

"Ray, you need to consider your own interests. If you come to Canada just for me, you'll end up hating it - and me."

Ray patted his hand over Fraser's heart. "Don't sweat it buddy. We'll work something out. As long as it doesn't involve a bowling alley, I'm good."

They were able to get Fraser in to see his psychologist at lunchtime. Ray waited for him, nervously downing coffee in a nearby coffeehouse. He knew the kidnapping case had rattled Ben, but what if that wasn't the only thing? What if the psychologist said that Fraser being with Ray was the problem - and nothing else? After all, that was the other thing that had changed, besides him coming back to Chicago. He knew logically this was crap but he was too tired to be rational. He tried to read one of the provided newspapers, but found his attentions wandering too much to concentrate. Finally Fraser walked in. Ray immediately saw his eyes were serene, even if he still looked very tired. He ordered tea for him, and another coffee for himself, which he would probably regret, he thought resignedly. "So, how did it go?"

Fraser stirred his drink and looked thoughtful. "He wasn't surprised at things taking this turn. He'd expected it, actually."

"Why? 'Cos you came back?"

"Not that in particular - lots of things. Catching the man who killed my mother. Lifestyle changes ... you know..."

"You mean moving home."

"And beds."

"You told him about us?"

"Oh yes, a long time back. You can't conceal things like that, Ray. He's not there to judge me, you know."

"Anyway - what else?"

"The case, of course - he said it could be any case, not just ones with children. And the stress of the new position."

"So, what did he say? Did he tell you to leave?"

"No. He didn't. He advised me not to make any important decisions now, which I interpret as meaning I should remain here until such time as I am ready to leave."

"Did he say ... did he mention us?" he said hesitantly, hating the little quaver in his voice. "I mean, did he tell you that we should split up?"

"Good heavens, no. Ray, you're the one good thing to come out of all this. That I am sure of, and he agrees with me." Ray let out a breath. "You've been worrying about this, haven't you. Blaming yourself, or us. I really have to work harder on reassuring you about my feelings," Fraser said gently

"Nah. Just thought he might think sleeping with a guy was messing with your head."

"It was messed with long before I met you, Ray. Now, I have this uncontrollable desire to go to bed and be naked with a Chicago cop. What do you think I should do about it?"

Ray grinned and quickly drank down the rest of his coffee. "I think, Ben, you should give in. No point fighting these uncontrollable desires. You never know where that might end up."

They did indeed get naked and under the covers, but Ray thought it was rather sweet, if not very flattering, that Fraser fell asleep while Ray was attempting to give him a blow job. Or maybe it was flattering - after all you have to trust someone if you can sleep with their mouth around your dick. Ray patted the softening erection, promising a rematch, and covered his exhausted man up. Then he curled up beside him, and was asleep himself in seconds.

The phone woke him up, and he staggered out to the living room, cursing the caller. Vecchio. "Kowalski? They said Fraser was sick. He's never sick - what's wrong with him?"

"What's wrong, you moron, is that he's been having trouble sleeping, and you've probably just woken him up. Hold on." He put the phone down, and went to the bedroom door. Amazingly, Fraser was still out like a light. He shut the door and returned to the phone.

"So what do you want, Vecchio?"

"I wanted to have lunch with him, and they said he was sick. What's this crap about him not sleeping? The guy sleeps like a baby - anytime, anywhere."

"Yeah, well maybe that was before you and your family got him mixed up with dead kids."

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and belatedly remembered that Vecchio knew nothing about Fraser's breakdown, or about his being treated for PTSD. "Look, Vecchio, I shouldn't have mentioned ..."

"Kowalski, you and me better meet and talk. Do you know the Rose Inn on 5th?"

It was not far - Ray could be there in ten minutes. He agreed to meet and hung up. He dressed quietly and quickly and wrote a note to Fraser to say he'd be gone a couple of hours. "Look after him, Dief," he told the wolf, and left.

Vecchio looked tense and annoyed when he met him at a corner table. "You tell me how you know about this and what the hell is wrong with Fraser."

Ray ignored him long enough to order them both a beer. They were gonna need it, he thought.

"OK. I know all about Petey, if that's what you're talking about. Last year, Fraser went a little nuts - ran off up north to Buck Frobisher's cabin. Tried to kill himself if you really wanna know, and when I showed up, he tried to kill me - well, he pulled a gun on me. Turned out that he was suffering PTSD from what he went through over Petey's death, and then we had a case with a baby getting shot - he just snapped."

Vecchio went pale. "I had no idea," he whispered.

Ray felt the anger build in him. "No, you didn't. You just let Fraser be a good little Mountie and you didn't give a fuck about what he was going through, or how he felt, or how he coped. Bet you never even thought it bothered him, right? Too wrapped up in your own little world, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was, Kowalski. Petey Carpenter wasn't just some stranger's kid. He was my brother."

Ray stared at Vecchio's stony expression in shock. "You better explain."

So Vecchio did. He told Ray about how his father had had an affair with a prostitute called Lola Carpenter, and told her he was Ray Vecchio, the detective, and how Lola had taken her revenge for the trick when she encountered the real Ray Vecchio. He was unaware of the child's relationship until after his death.

Ray felt ill. "I'm sorry, Vecchio. I didn't know..."

Vecchio cut him off sharply. "Nobody knows. Only Fraser. Not my mother, not Frannie and not Welsh. So you keep your big mouth shut, okay?" Ray nodded. "Now tell me why Fraser got so worked up."

The sympathy Ray felt was once again subsumed under his anger over Fraser's predicament. "You didn't know how fond Fraser was of Petey? That he loved him like his own kid? Jesus, Vecchio - you know what he's like. If someone had killed Dief like that he'd be having bad dreams - and this was much worse, from what he said."

"Yeah it was. I was there, remember? I knew he liked the kid - he was there all the time, but I didn't know. You know how close-mouthed he is about private stuff, but you're right, Kowalski, I shoulda realized. But why is he having nightmares now?"

"Lots of reasons. Muldoon for one. And we had a child kidnapping case. His doctor said he should just take things easy."

Vecchio's eyes narrowed. "You seem to be pretty involved in this - more than just buddies. Why the hell hasn't he told me any of this himself?"

Ray suddenly remembered he was talking to an as yet unretired cop. "Cos you weren't there when it happened, and now I guess he thinks you're too damn busy making goo-goo eyes at Stella. I dunno why else. But don't you be bugging him about this - the guy's had enough to deal with."

"Benny's been my friend for more than four years, Kowalski. I think I know what's good for him and what's not."

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think. Look, you want to come to dinner tonight and talk to him? Like, you never really talked about this, right? So here's your chance. Let me go home, tidy up, warn him. We'll see you at seven. But you watch yourself - he's been through hell, you hear me?"

"Ben's Ma's dead so you thought you'd take over, huh?"

"Vecchio," Ray said warningly.

"All right. We'll do it your way. See you at 7.00."

Ray left the bar and drove home slowly, wondering if he'd been so smart after all. Vecchio had a pretty nasty mouth on him when he wanted, and if the two of them got into a fight in front of Fraser, it might make things worse. Oh well, if Fraser objected mightily, he could always call it off.

Tousled sleepy Fraser had quickly become one of Ray's favorite things, and he couldn't help grinning as he sat on the bed watching Fraser stretch and try to wake up. The man had been asleep for hours - in the middle of the day - unheard of. "You're getting soft, Ben."

Fraser looked under the sheet and smirked. "Are you quite certain of that, Ray?"

"You can't impress me with that any more, Ben - you fell asleep the last time I was paying any attention to it."

"Did I?" He looked mortified. "I'm sorry - I was just ...."

Ray grinned. "Whacked. I know, and I forgive you so long as I get a chance to try again."

"Now?" Fraser the sex maniac - that was going to take some getting used to, Ray thought.

"Uh, no. Um, look - I got a call while you were asleep. Don't know why it didn't wake you up. From Vecchio. Anyway, he asked me to meet him - he was worried about you being sick. So I did ... and I, uh ... told him about you and Petey."

Fraser's eyes got frosty. "Ray, that really wasn't for you to say."

"He weaseled it out of me."

"How?"

"He asked, okay? Look, there's no harm done. He's coming to dinner so you guys can talk. I told him if he got you upset I'd kick him in the head. Ben - why didn't you tell me Petey was Ray's brother?"

Fraser's expression softened. "It wasn't my secret to tell. It really was the most terrible time for Ray - you shouldn't be so hard on him."

"Yeah, I get that now. But I care more about you than him and right now I want to know - do you want to do this tonight or not? I'll call him if you don't."

Fraser considered this for some time which impressed upon Ray more than anything that the wounds over the child's death nearly three years before were still bad. At last he said slowly, "Yes. I think it is just as well. I've never really talked to him  about Petey since he died, and if he moves to Florida, we won't have the chance. But Ray..."

Suddenly Ray realized what Fraser's expression was - apprehension. He touched Fraser's face. "I'll be there, if you want. Or I can give Dief a long walk. You give me the hint, whichever way - OK? Now, unless you want to be greeting the guy butt naked, you better get dressed and tell me what the hell I can feed him."

In the end, they agreed Fraser could shower and tidy up, because he was good at that, and Ray would shop and cook, because he was better at that. He decided to stick to meat and potatoes, more or less, but got a bottle of decent red wine and some juice for his teetotal lover. Somehow he doubted the food was going to be important, but the less it distracted people by being horrible, the better.

Vecchio was on time, and bearing his own bottle, which was more polite than Ray expected. He accepted it graciously and opened it, since it was better than the one he'd chosen. Vecchio was civil over the meal - Italian manners, Ray guessed, and at least he refrained from giving Fraser the third degree. But the second the plates were cleared and coffee being made, he made it clear that he wanted to talk to Fraser - alone.

"Ray, this is Ray's apartment. You can't order him out like this."

Ray Kowalski decided to be peacemaker. "Fraser, don't worry. The wolf needs a walk anyway."

"No wait, Ray. Ray," turning to Vecchio, "you really must try to respect him, however much you resent him taking over your life while you were undercover."

Vecchio snorted. "Me? Resent him? I don't ever think about him."

That was enough for Ray Kowalski. "Well if you guys are gonna talk like I'm not even here, I definitely am going for a walk." He paused just long enough to check with a quick look that Fraser could deal with him going, and got an infinitesimal nod in return. He called up Dief and walked out, ignoring the dirty looks being exchanged between the two men staying behind.

It took him over an hour to stop fuming. Sure, Vecchio didn't like him - he didn't like Vecchio much either. But he absolutely hated being treated like he didn't exist, which is why, he was sure, Vecchio did it. But then he grinned. He had a feeling Mr. Armani suits and Italian Loafers was going to be told a few home truths by a certain Mountie. Oh yeah - he bet Vecchio hadn't encountered Ben in full protective mode yet.

It was after eleven before he went back, and he kind of hoped that Vecchio would be gone. But his car was still there. Ray put his cockiest face on, but to his surprise, Vecchio opened the door, and behaved as if he actually had some manners left, taking Ray's coat and hanging it up. "You guys done?" Ray asked as mildly as he could.

Vecchio faced him. "Kowalski, I want to apologize. I didn't know about you and Fraser - and what you did for him."

"What do you mean 'you and Fraser'?"

"You know, that you guys are ... you know..."

Ray glared at his lover who was sitting at the table, keeping silent. "You ** _told_** him? Why? Now he'll tell everyone - Stella, Frannie. Why didn't you just put it on a fucking billboard?"

"Ray, he says that..."

Vecchio overrode Fraser's attempt to mollify his lover. "Kowalski - hold up. Sit down, will ya?"

Ray slammed onto the sofa, more pissed off than he'd ever been with Fraser - even more than the time he'd been driven to punch him on the _Henry Allen_ case. How the hell could he have been so fucking reckless - he was Fraser's official partner now, and fraternization rules applied. He looked daggers at the man who had the power to ruin them.

Vecchio sat opposite him. "Look, Ray - for one thing, Fraser didn't tell me. I worked it out. You don't think that mother hen act of yours is just a little bit obvious? Where's Fraser sleeping? I don't see no bedroll. And your phone's in here and you stopped to close a door while we were talking. The _bedroom_ door. You don't think I got to be Detective First Grade by sending in coupons, do ya?"

"The thought crossed my mind, Vecchio."

"Well, same here about you. And the second thing is, I ain't gonna tell anyone you don't want me to. You know stuff about me, I know stuff about you. I don't want to hurt Fraser - or you, since you looked after my family so good. I've been yanking your chain, I admit that. That's what I do. But you got nothing to worry about although you might want to try and be a little more discreet, you know?"

Ray was ashamed of himself. "Sorry Vecchio - Ben. I guess I just panicked."

"I'll say that again. And Fraser told me that I've been acting like a prick."

"Fraser called you a prick?"

Fraser cleared his throat. "Actually, Ray, I believe what I actually said was that you were insensitive, overbearing, self-centered and gratuitously offensive."

Despite himself, Ray Kowalski laughed. "I think I'd rather be called a 'prick' ."

Vecchio smiled ruefully. "Maybe. But anyway I got nothing against you, and you've never done me any harm, and since you've been nice enough to make your ex available, I got no complaints at all."

Ray lifted his head, thinking Vecchio was digging at him over Stella but the other man's green eyes betrayed nothing but seriousness. "Thought you'd freak over me and Ben."

Fraser coughed and Vecchio smiled weakly. "Did that already. Had a few facts of life pointed out to me."

"Really?" Boy, Ray wished he'd come back earlier now.

"Yeah, really. But don't push your luck. You kiss in front of me and I'm out of here."

"Really?" Ray said again and couldn't resist. "Ben, would you mind...?"

"That's probably unnecessary, Ray. Ray was just on his way out - he was waiting for you so he could apologize. But, Ray," speaking to Vecchio, "you're telling him what to do in his own home again. I won't stand for that. Remember that. If Ray wants to kiss me or do any of the things you and Stella were doing while I was visiting your house, that is his prerogative. Do you understand?"

Wow. Pissed off Mountie. Ray watched the Italian take his licks like a naughty schoolboy. But then, he knew Vecchio knew he was out of line. "Okay, Benny. I get you."

"But we won't push, Vecchio. I... I appreciate you being cool over this." Ray found himself honestly grateful - this all could have gone so badly. "Did you guys talk about Petey?"

"Yeah, we did. And thanks for that, Ray. Thanks for saving Fraser's life. I owe you for that. You need a favor, anytime? I'm your man."

Ray was astonished. Apologies and thanks from Vecchio? In the same evening? Without a gun to his head? He mumbled, "You're welcome."

Vecchio stood. "Benny, I'm flying to Florida tomorrow to check out the alley - so I won't be around much for a while. You look after yourself, you hear? And Kowalski, you tell me next time if there's a problem."

"I will. Did Ben say you were leaving, cos I had my beauty sleep interrupted this afternoon by some clown."

"Subtle as a brick, Kowalski. Yeah, I'm going." Fraser stood and Vecchio gave him a brief hug, and then put his hand out to Ray. "See you, Kowalski."

"You look after Stella."

"I don't need you to tell me to do that. But you do the same for him and we're quits. And Kowalski? You hurt him and I'll kill you."

"You'll have to catch me first, Vecchio."

"You'll never see me coming, Kowalski."

Vecchio left. Ray came to Fraser who had sat again at the table. He looked tired. "You okay?"

Fraser nodded. "Yes, but I'm glad he's gone. It was certainly a trying evening between one thing and another."

"You had to read him the riot act, right?"

"Several times, and I don't particularly enjoy speaking to my friends that way. But it was important, so there you are."

"So what did you say to him about us?"

"I merely pointed out that his throwing a tantrum was not going to change either my sexual orientation or yours, or break up our relationship. But that his throwing a tantrum could easily result in the end of my friendship with him. He saw the logic of that."

Ray knew it wouldn't have been as easy as that and almost felt sorry for Vecchio. "Do you think you'll sleep okay?"

"I don't know. Probably not. I could stay out here if you like."

Ray made him stand so he could hug him. "Uh uh, Benton Fraser. We started this together, we're gonna finish this together. Any way, if you were gonna sleep on the sofa, you should've done it before now - give ol' snoopy something to see."

"I'm sorry about that, Ray."

"I'm not, not now. One less person to lie to. But Ben, what about Maggie - what about my Mom and Dad? Are we gonna tell them?"

Fraser wiped his hand over his face, and Ray realized that he really was too tired for this conversation. "If you think we should. I have no objections."

"Look, enough with the big things tonight. I got a date with your dick, remember? You fall asleep on me this time ..."

"I give you permission to wake me up. Your technique is much too good to sleep through."

"Aw, Ben. You say the sweetest things to a guy."

Fraser yawned. "Ray - could I possibly lie down before I fall down? With or without the benefit of your technique?"

And so Ray took his lover to bed. Ben didn't fall asleep this time, and even managed to enthusiastically return the favor. He did have more nightmares, but they didn't actually wake him. Ray held him and whispered to him until he quieted.

We're gonna be fine, he thought. We got through. And there was always Canada if they needed it. But for now, they were right where they both needed to be. With each other.   
 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written nearly twenty years ago under another pseudonym. It hasn't been revised since then.
> 
> I am posting this and my other stories from this period purely so people can read them if they choose. I won't be reading comments, and don't care if you leave kudos. I'm dumping them and running.
> 
> Having said that, I worked hard on them, and I hope they still entertain someone out there.


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